


Many Happy Returns

by Charm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday Cake, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:46:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charm/pseuds/Charm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Utterly shameless cake schmoop, written in honor of Severus's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many Happy Returns

Severus Snape stepped gracefully past the grate into Number 12 Grimmauld Place and sniffed the air with interest. Something smelled … delicious. He rose his not inconsiderable nose into the air a bit and inhaled deeply. Yes. Delicious.

Now, that couldn’t be right. There shouldn’t be anyone in the house other than Harry. Well, Lupin perhaps, but they had seen neither hide nor hair of the werewolf in over a week. Not since he’d got that dreamy look in his eyes and mentioned something about ‘the Riviera in spring’. Severus had only been too glad to be shot of him.

He removed his traveling cloak and hung it on the gleaming silver stand that stood beside the fireplace. Harry’d been getting a bit cabin-feverish of late and Severus had arrived home at least twice just this past week to find him slumped over the kitchen table, covered in Mrs. Minniver’s No-Scrub Silver Polish, a plethora of Black Family heirlooms scattered around him, some shining with polish, some tarnished with fifty years of neglect.

But tonight, there was no scent of chemicals bracing the air and no softly snoring Potter when he entered the kitchen. Instead there was --

‘Cake!’ Harry’s cheeks were lightly dusted with flour and there was a smudge of batter on his glasses, as well as the corner of his mouth, none of that though, did anything to dim the smile spread from ear to ear.

‘So it would seem, Mr Potter. Might I inquire as to the occasion?’

Harry gave him A Look. Snape ignored it and leaned down for his welcome-home kiss, licking away the batter.

‘Coconut?’

Harry grinned and nodded.

‘That’s --’

‘Your favorite?’ Harry said, looking pleased.

‘It is. My first year at Hogwart’s, Albus celebrated my birthday with me early, before everyone returned from Christmas hols. Just the two of us down in the kitchens, he’d had the House Elves prepare a coconut cake. Just for me.’ Severus could hear his own voice grow wistful and cleared his throat a bit. ‘How did … ?’

Harry smiled softly at him and laced their fingers together. ‘Albus.’

‘Ah. Of course. You haven’t been to Hogwart’s for weeks, whenever did you have the opportunity to interrogate his portrait for recipes?’

Harry blushed a little. ‘I’ve sort of … been planning this for a while.’

The corner of Snape’s mouth turned up just a touch and he gently rubbed his knuckles across Harry’s smooth, blush-warm cheek. ‘Indeed.’

He was rewarded with another of those soft smiles; they were his favorite. They made him feel … warm inside, he supposed, in a way few other things did.

‘It’s nearly done!’ Harry told him, clapping his flour-dusted hands together eagerly and moving back toward the oven. ‘Just a minute or two more and a Cooling Charm, and then we can start frosting! What do you want to have first, dinner or dessert?’

Severus moved closer, in behind Harry where he stood peering through the little window of the oven. ‘Oh, I think you know me rather well enough by now to know I’ve never been a particularly patient man, Mr Potter. I’ve never been any good at waiting for my dessert.’

‘Point,‘ Harry said, smirking a little, and turned to face him, moving warmly into Severus’s arms. Where he belonged. Severus smoothed a lock of hair off Harry’s forehead; wide, green eyes met his own steadily.

‘Happy Birthday, Severus,’ Harry whispered, and - letting himself smile, just a little - Severus bowed his head to captured the boy’s lips in a kiss.

 

 


End file.
